


All That Glitters

by ValAishlym



Series: The Bull & The Fox [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:39:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValAishlym/pseuds/ValAishlym
Summary: For all he knew and understood, he could not touch nor feel that which was before him. A journey of self-reflection and discovery through the eyes of the inquisitor. Zevvin, the elven Tevinter mage.





	1. I Give You, Inquisitor, The Herald of Andraste

**Author's Note:**

> Forewarning: A lot of the main storyline will be mixed around, omitted, or slightly altered to fit this particular inquisitor's 'universe'.
> 
> Just a little bit about this particular Inquisitor in case I fail to explain it through the story (Taken straight from his codex on dA:  
> Name: Zevvin  
> Class [Specialization]: Storm Mage [Necromancer]  
> Moniker: Zev/Zevvy  
> ^Via Varric: Fox/Sharky  
> Hails from: Orthland [Modern day Anderfels] - > Tevinter Imperium  
> Deepest Fear: Losing Himself  
> Vallaslin: None  
> Estimated Age: [Speculated]~19 Summers [Actual]~772 Summers (born circa 2:20 Towers)
> 
> Zevvin is a peculiar character, for all that is known about him is what he tells others. He insists that he has lived a long eventful life. He hails from Orthland but after the first blight, his clan migrated to the south. Throughout the centuries, he's seen countless wars and survived each blight. His entire family and clan was steadily wiped out with each passing blight. After the third blight, he was entirely on his own. He's spent much of his later years in the Tevinter Imperium. He said that he'd acquired a fennec long ago that he'd traveled around with. This fennec, he says, is the sole reason for his prolonged existence.

**Char: Zevvin & Iron Bull**

**All That Glitters**

**I Give You, Inquisitor, The Herald of Andraste**

He didn’t understand it. He didn’t think he would ever understand it, but damned if he wouldn’t try to. Zevvin brought his hand up and stared into the bright glow of the anchor.

The anchor wasn’t the thing he didn’t understand, though he didn’t quite get the magic behind it, it was more the attitude of the humans and their perception of the inquisition. Of him, the inquisitor. Not just the humans though, everyone. The city elves, the Dalish elves, the Quanri, the dwarves…every person in Thedas.

_~You’ve never had such thoughts before. Are you well?~_

It was hard pressed to get them to believe that the Herald of Andraste was an elf but now they were a bit more wary that said elf was now the leader of an army. An army the Chantry had dubbed a heretic movement.

_~This is not the Chantry you are used to.~_

Zevvin clenched his fist closed and sighed. He looked down over the balcony. Skyhold. This was their new base. Their new hope. But was this fight even worth it? The redheaded elf closed his eyes and stepped away from the railing. He brought up the papers he had been clutching at his side and with a forlorn sigh, he returned to his chambers.

_~Your thinking is oddly depressing. Please discontinue them.~_

Thedas had never been all to welcoming to the elves but it was much better now than it was before…wasn’t it? He couldn’t really tell.

“Who am I, but a sheep in wolf’s clothing?” Zevvin mumbled lowly, closing the balcony doors behind him. His voice caught the attention of the small animal laying on his desk. The fennec’s ear twitched briefly before its head rose and its eyes opened. “I apologize if I woke you, Wisper.” Zevvin sat at his desk and patted the fennec gently on the head. The fennec let loose a large yawn before it stood and shook its body.

Wisper was special. He was a wisdom spirit that inhabited the body of a fennec. Wisper had been with him for longer than he could remember. For decades it had been only him and Wisper.  It took some difficulty adjusting to speaking with others besides the spirit but he’d finally managed, though he still regularly spoke with Wisper for help in that avenue.

_~I cannot sleep if you are awake. Besides, how could anyone get sleep with such loud and confusing thoughts you have? A demon would die if they even glanced at you with the intention of possession.~_

Zevvin snorted as he regarded the fennec. “Charming.”

_~Indeed. You had thoughts of returning to the Imperium when this lunatic Corypheus is dealt with, yes? I suggest you consult with that half-wit altus before doing so.~_

Gradually, Wisper took on a personality all his own. Sometimes Zevvin wondered if it was a mirror of his own.  “I will never understand your distaste for Dorian.”

_~He has enough ego to fill the entirety of the Imperium himself. And half of Orlais.~_

“Come now, he isn’t that bad,” Zevvin chided, rearranging the documents on his desk. The fennec tilted his head and made a low snarl.

_~You are biased.~_

It was the only thing the fennec said before turning away from Zevvin. Zevvin snorted again before the fennec began to speak again.

_~You have a visitor. It is that bright woman from before. Josephine, I recall.~_

True to the claim, Josephine came walking up the stairs of his room, clipboard in hand. “Good afternoon, Inquisitor.”

“Lady Montilyet,” Zevvin said, tipping his head in greeting. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Ah, well, there we a couple of invitations sent to the inquisition, addressed to you specifically. The one that caught my eye, especially, is the one from Bertrand Geoffroy-Égide of house Lièvremont,” Josephine said, shuffling papers on her clipboard before handing one over to Zevvin. Zevvin took the proffered scroll and read over it.

“House Lièvremont? Are they not a minor family in Orlais? Merchant family, if I recall correctly.” Zevvin raised an eyebrow and looked at Josephine over the scroll. Josephine smiled.

“I do forget how well versed you are with the noble families in Neverra and Orlais. Yes, this is a minor merchant family, however, I would say that they do offer something that would be valuable to the Inquisition. Their family have dealings with smiths from the Imperium. This connection would work for us in getting our hands on magic resistant armor and may win us favors with some in the Imperium. Any support we can get with supplies-” Josephine spared a glance at Wisper when he yipped loudly, cutting her off.

_~I suggest you speak with the altus before making any rash decisions when it comes to the nobles of the Imperium. Any family that has noble attached to it screams Magister. Who is this smith?~_

“May I ask just who the Lièvremonts have dealings with?” Zevvin asked, bringing Josephine’s gaze to him.

“Paelus Damian, is what they’ve claimed,” Josephine said.

_~Damian sounds rather familiar but Paelus does not ring a bell. Consult with the altus.~_

“I will think it over. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Lady Montilyet,” Zevvin said with a nod. Josephine returned the nod and took her leave. Zevvin looked down at Wisper who was staring at him. “What?”

_~I will destroy him if he gets too far off track.~_

Zevvin rolled his eyes and stood. He knew it was just talk on Wisper’s part. The fennec would only growl at him. Zevvin opened his arms and Wisper jumped into them. With fennec in hand, Zevvin made his way out of his quarters. “Really, now? You’re as harmless as a nug…. maybe I should have- ow!” Zevvin was cut off by Wisper nipping at his hand.

_~If you continue that train of thought, I will never speak to you again!~_

“Okay, okay…” Zevvin chuckled. “You know, for you hating Dorian as much as you do, you frequently tell me to consult with him.”

_~As much as it pains me to admit it, he is useful.~_

That was all the response he was given from the fennec. Zevvin chuckled. He opened the door to the main hall and stopped. A sight, probably more rare than seeing Vivienne in the tavern, grabbed Zevvin’s attention almost immediately. Iron Bull was walking out of the Rotunda. He stopped by Varric, where he stayed for a time speaking with him.

_~Zevvin! Do you not hear me talking to you?!~_

“Huh?” Zevvin looked down at Wisper who was growling at him.

_~You are drooling.~_

Zevvin quickly brought his hand up to dab at his mouth. He glared at Wisper who scoffed.

_~Stop acting like a hormonal teenager and go see the altus.~_

“Oh, alright,” Zevvin huffed, closing the door behind him. He approached the two speaking and they both looked at him.

“Heya, Sharky.”  “Hey, boss.” Varric and Iron Bull greeted at the same time.

“Varric…The Iron Bull,” Zevvin said, pausing only slightly at Iron Bull’s name. “Don’t mind me.” Varric and Iron Bull exchanged looks briefly before they nodded at the passing, long haired elf.

_~Hormonal. Teenage. Girl.~_

“Bullying never got anyone anywhere but an early grave,” Zevvin growled, causing Solas to look at him.

“Inquisitor,” Solas said, tipping his head slightly. “Wisper.”

_~Why is it not people like Solas that catches your fancy? Ignorance is not an attractive quality.~_

Solas raised an eyebrow and Zevvin’s face flushed red. He quickly retreated to the stairs. “Silence yourself! Do you forget he can hear you?”

_~I forget nothing. Do you forget it is I who allows him to hear me?~_

“ _Venhedis_ … You are an insufferable _ass_.” Zevvin grumbled as he reached the top of the stairs. Dorian turned his head to look at him and grinned.

“I sure do hope you mean that in a flattering way,” Dorian said. “Hello, Inquisitor, to what do I owe this pleasurable meeting?”

“ _Avanna_ , Pavus. I come here with a question.” Zevvin said, walking closer to Dorian. He looked up at the taller mage with a slight furrow in his brow. Dorian walked over to the window and leaned against the wall. He grinned.

“Is it about my dashing good looks? Or maybe how it is I keep my hair shining in this dreadfully cold weather? Or maybe it’s something more primal, yes? Maybe you’re here to ask me how to-“

_~Do not continue that sentence.~_

The menacing undertone caught Zevvin off guard. He glanced down at Wisper in confusion before looking up at Dorian. The mage had only raised an eyebrow.

“I was actually here to ask you about someone from the Imperium,” Zevvin started slowly, glancing down at the growling fennec briefly. “Does a name Paelus Damian speak to you?”

“Paelus Damian? The name Damian does strike me as familiar but Paelus, I draw a blank. There are many Damians among the magisters. Hmmm… The one I hear most about is a Vibius Damian. He exiled his own son to save face. But his name was not Paelus, it was Caelus. Could there be an error in names?”

_~Caelus de Devereaux, formerly Caelus Damian, the second son of the magister Vibius Damian. Caelus is no mage, therefore he was useless to his father.~_

“Hence the exile,” Dorian added. Zevvin furrowed his brows.

_~With that relation severed, you would be getting the work, but you will not get the connections. For what it’s worth, I would say decline. But the armor may be needed since Corypheus has taken the mages.~_

“This must be about that invitation to House Lièvremont’s party,” Dorian said with a scoff. “I, too, received an invitation. It may be dreadfully boring to go to but I am sure their wine would be much more tasteful than what you stock here in Skyhold.” Zevvin narrowed his eyes.

“Do you care for nothing but wine?”

“In this instance, yes.”

“You’ve not changed a bit since the last time I saw you.” Zevvin shook his head.

_~Earlier you asked for my reason. This is so.~_

“You mean yesterday? Of course.” Dorian smirked.

“I mean years ago.” Zevvin shook his head. “I’ve taken up enough for your time. Thank you for the information, Pavus.” Zevvin bowed his head slightly.

“Anytime.”

Zevvin took his leave and made his way to Josephine’s office.

“Inquisitor, how shall I respond to the invitation?” Josephine asked as soon as he entered the room.

“I accept.” Zevvin nodded. Josephine smiled and nodded.

“I will begin writing a letter in acceptance.”

“Until later,” Zevvin said, leaving the room. “I suddenly have a headache.” Zevvin grumbled.

_~Have you finished working on that tonic you started a few weeks ago? Busying yourself with that will make the headache go away.~_

“I think I need less thinking,” Zevvin mumbled as he made his way outside.

_~Nonsense. You need to focus on something more important and less tiresome. The tonic is one of them.~_

“Ugh.” Zevvin huffed and plot down on the stone ground. He stared out over the field towards the tavern and grinned to himself. Iron Bull and his chargers were next to the tavern sparring.

_~I do not understand your interest in this Qunari. What do you have to gain while pursuing him?~_

Zevvin chose to ignore the spirit in favor of staring at said Qunari.

_~I refuse to allow this to continue any longer. Can you not see that you are not the type he pursues?~_

Zevvin frowned and looked down at Wisper. “I do not understand.”

_~Let me not remind you of this incident with the altus half-wit. Qunari are much more different than humans and elves. You best remember that.~_

“Could you be more specific?” Zevvin asked. Wisper sighed and jumped out of Zevvin’s arms.

_~The Qunari are aggressive and less passionate. They do not even have naming conventions. I would sooner compare them to demons than actual living beings outside of the Fade. They wish to conquer. They wish for order and strength. You are not what he wants nor finds interest in.~_

Zevvin frowned and looked over at the Chargers, who had begun to walk towards the tavern. He felt something akin to being stabbed in the chest. “But…”

_~I have seen it, lethalin. It is best you forget about this Qunari and focus your mind on something more worth while.~_

Zevvin’s frown deepened. He stood up and glanced down at Wisper. The fennec was sitting on his hind legs, still looking after the Chargers with narrowed eyes. Zevvin turned his attention back to the tavern in time to see Iron Bull grin his way and wave. Zevvin felt his heart flutter.  _He waved,_ it screamed _._  Wisper growled.

_~He has no shame! I refuse to allow him to play such games. Zevvin, let us return to your quarters and finish the tonic.~_

Zevvin sighed and allowed the fennec back into his arms. With a final glance towards the tavern, Zevvin made his way back inside and made for his room.


	2. Inquisitor Who?

**Char: Zevvin & Iron Bull**

**All That Glitters**

**Inquisitor Who?**

Zevvin sat at the desk in his quarters, staring blankly at the open tome in front of him.  His elbow rested on the table next to the opened tome with his cheek smushed into his fist. Small vials, stones, and plants floated listlessly above and around him. He had been rereading the same line in the tome ever since he opened it. That was probably a few hours ago. He glanced at the balcony. It was already nightfall. He sighed lowly and returned his gaze to the tome. Yup. 5 hours.

_~Are you well? You have been silent and distracted.~_

Zevvin looked up from the tome towards his bed. Wisper sat on his hind legs staring at him. “I am fine.” That was a lie. He couldn’t get Iron Bull out of his mind and the things that Wisper had told him…it made it even harder to concentrate on anything else but his crushed dreams. _Dreams? Were they dreams or desires. Were dreams and desires the same thing?_

_~Perhaps I should have not informed you of the Qunari’s thoughts.~_

“No, no. It is fine…” Zevvin mumbled. It really wasn’t but the redhead would never admit that out loud. “I am…glad you stopped me from embarrassing myself. Thank you, Wisper.”

_~As you say.~_

The fennec laid down and curled up into a ball. Zevvin continued to gaze at him for a moment longer before returning his gaze to the tome. Wisper had always been there for him. The wisdom spirit had always encouraged him in the avenue of study and sometimes even in social situations but lately he had been a tad bit hostile. Ever since Zevvin had stepped out of the fade the first time, he had sensed some animosity from the spirit but he wasn’t exactly sure if it was directed at him or the situation they were forced into.

Zevvin bit his bottom lip. There was something else bugging him that he couldn’t stop thinking of. Ever since Wisper had first started expressing his distaste for most of the people within the hold. “Do you…believe…I’ll ever find someone interested in me?”

_~You interest a great many people.~_

Zevvin perked up. He glanced over at the fennec with hopeful eyes. He hadn’t expected that answer but he was happy with it. “Oh?”

_~But not in a way that would be beneficial to you. Too many have impure intentions.~_

Zevvin frowned. “I do not understand.”

_~You are an elf. That is about as far as that interest goes. You shouldn’t worry yourself for such trivial things as other people’s interests. You should focus on more worthwhile things.~_

Zevvin’s brows furrowed. “What about other elves?”

 _~When was the last time_ you _found interest in one of your own?~_

“Does Solas find me interesting?”

_~No.~_

Zevvin felt his heart sink in disappointment. If anyone would find him interesting, he thought it would be Solas. He had thought they both sought knowledge, however different that knowledge was obtained. Whether it be from tomes or spirits from the Fade. Zevvin found the rift mage interesting, but now he saw that interest wasn’t necessarily mutual. “Josephine?” Maybe his knowledge of human politics had garnered the ambassador’s interest.

_~No.~_

His heart sunk further. “Cullen? Leliana? Blackwall? Varric?”

_~No.~_

Zevvin’s disappointment grew. “Dorian?”

_~A prime example of impure intentions.~_

Zevvin paused a moment, running his fingers nervously through the long, red fringe of hair covering his left eye. “You?” he asked in a small voice. He glanced over at the fennec, who remained silent and still for a long stretch of time. If Zevvin didn’t know better, he would have thought the fennec fell asleep. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer that would be given.

_~To an extent, maybe. I’d be moreso if you were not so easily distracted.~_

Zevvin felt something within him shrivel to nothing. The vials and ingredients floating around him suddenly fell from the air, clattering loudly against the stone floor, the vials shattering and splattering their contents across the floor. Wisper’s head popped up in alarm at the sound. They gazed unblinkingly at one another before Zevvin broke his gaze by closing his eyes. With a sigh, Zevvin pushed away from the desk and walked towards the stairs.

_~Where are you going? It is late. You should be getting ready to sleep if you’re done looking over that tome.~_

Zevvin stopped at the top of the stairs. He looked at Wisper. The fennec was still half curled in on himself but had his head raised and his ears perked. “I need air.”

_~You can stand on the balcony for air.~_

“I want to walk.”

_~You can pace on the balcony.~_

“I wish to be alone.”

_~Hm. Carry on, then. I expect you back within the hour.~_

“…Of course,” Zevvin mumbled as he started down the stairs.

…

..

.

Zevvin’s wanderings found him on the battlements a few paces away from the tavern. He leaned heavily against the cold stone and breathed a heavy sigh. “Rare seeing you walking around empty handed.”  Zevvin pulled away from the wall slightly and looked up at the approaching Qunari.

“Oh... Bull,” Zevvin mumbled. Iron Bull raised an eyebrow as the redhead turned away from him, leaning farther over the gap in the battlement.

“Just Bull?” Iron Bull asked. He was used to the elf calling him by his full name, including the article. He also wasn’t so used to the elf using such a flat tone when he was talking to him. He had to wonder what was up, especially since the inquisitor was without his fennec pet. “You okay, boss?”

“Oh nothing…just finding out how boring I am.”

“Boring? You? You’ve got to be the most non-boring person in this place.” Iron Bull raised an eyebrow when the elf scoffed.

Zevvin glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “You’re just saying that to placate me. Leave me to my brooding, please,” he grumbled miserably. He slumped even farther on the wall. “I wish to be alone with my thoughts.”

Iron Bull silently let his eyes roam over the small elf. He wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten into him lately, but he didn’t like it at all. When he’d first met the fiery redhead, he was full of spunk, dishing out sarcastic remarks left and right. Lately, he had been more docile and quiet and was never without his fennec.

Maybe it had something to do with the fennec? He’d caught the elf on more than one occasion speaking to the little animal as if it were a sentient being. More often or not, he was arguing with it about some tonic or poison. “I want to show you something, Boss.” Zevvin looked up at him again with a slight furrow in his brow.

“Oh? What would that be?”

“Follow me.” Bull led the elven inquisitor to the room above the bar. He held out Scout armor and instructed the mage to change. Bull watched, amused, as the inquisitor attempted to get dressed. He was doing fine up until the point he had to snap on the armor plates. Iron Bull took that moment to approach the small elf and give him a hand.

Zevvin snapped his gaze up from glaring at the armor snaps when he felt hands on his person. He looked up and stared at the Iron Bull as said Qunari snapped the armor in place.  “Thanks…” Zevvin mumbled. Iron Bull grinned at him and motioned for him to follow.

They stepped out of the room and walked down the steps. “Why am I dressed like this?” Zevvin asked when they came to a stop.

“You’ll see. Come on, it’ll be worth your time. I promise.”

And worth it, it was.

…

..

.

Zevvin and Iron Bull stepped in front of the tavern. Iron Bull observed the way the elf’s mood seemed to have improved after speaking with the two inquisition soldiers. He’d instructed the elf to stay quiet but knew full well the elf would ask at least one thing. What he had asked wasn’t exactly what he was expecting but it was along the lines of what he thought would be asked, considering what the elf had said to him before he had taken him to see the soldiers.

_“Do you find the Inquisitor interesting?”_

It was an odd question to ask considering. The two soldiers had looked at each other and looked at ‘Grim’ before answering in the affirmative. The redhead seemed happy with that answer.

“I know every soldier under my command,” Iron Bull said as he and Zevvin faced each other. “You don’t have that option…. but a few faces might help.”

“It was good to get their perspective,” Zevvin said, looking up at Bull with a dazzling smile that could blind the sun.

“You’ve got a good army coming along. Remember that, no matter what comes next.” Iron Bull watched the elf look away, an unreadable expression taking hold of his face. A moment later, the elf slowly turned back to him and looked up at him, almost shyly, through his lashes. The elf fiddled with the ends of the red fringe covering his left eye. If he were anyone else, Iron Bull would think he was flirting with him.

 _‘Impossible,’_ Iron Bull snorted inwardly. ‘ _The kid didn’t even realize the vint mage he was always hanging around was flirting with him, it’s highly doubtful he’s flirting on his own.’_

“May I ask something of you, The Iron Bull?” Zevvin asked. Iron Bull grinned. The article was back.

“Ask away, boss.” He had a feeling he knew what the question was going to be. His suspicion reigned true when a tiny flush slowly spread across the tanned elf’s nose.

“Do you…find the inquisitor interesting?”

Iron Bull grinned. Did he sense a hidden meaning in that question? “Who wouldn’t? He’s witty, intelligent, powerful, talented, and sexy to boot.”

“S-Sexy?” Zevvin’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Iron Bull laughed. He clapped a hand on the small elf’s shoulder. Zevvin had to steel himself against the sudden weight – his legs nearly buckled from the friendly gesture.

“You shouldn’t doubt yourself so much, boss. You’re the least boring person in all of Thedas.”

Zevvin placed his hand over Iron Bull’s and smiled at him. “You really think so?” The blush was still there.

“Of course.” Iron Bull smiled. Zevvin gave Iron Bull’s hand a light squeeze, his smile widening.

“Thank you.” Zevvin pulled away from the Qunari. With a slight bow of the head, he bid the giant warrior good night.

…

..

.

He was giddy as he walked up the steps to his room. So giddy, in fact, he had forgotten he was wearing Scout armor until he got to the top of the landing.

_~What took you so long? I said within the hour and you come back 2 hours later.~_

Zevvin almost instantly felt his mood fly south. He sighed as he walked farther into the room and began to strip out of the Scout armor.

_~Why are you wearing that? Where did you go? Why did you not tell me you were leaving the hold entirely for your walk?~_

“Please, Wisper, I’m not in the mood,” Zevvin mumbled.

_~Nonsense. I could smell your bubbly mood a mile away. What happened? Did you figure out the right combination for that tonic?~_

Zevvin contemplated lying to the fennec. The fennec would find out eventually that he was lied to and chew him out. “I…was just speaking with some inquisition soldiers. I got to hear exactly what some of them see in this cause.” The fennec was quiet. Zevvin, thinking the fennec had accepted his excuse, stripped the rest of the armor away. When he was finished, he walked over to the bed. He glanced at the fennec, noticing Wisper had been staring at him the entire time. “What?”

_~What did he say to you?~_

Zevvin’s eyes widened slightly. “Wh-what? Who?”

_~That Qunari. I can smell him on you. What did he do to you? What did he say?~_

Wisper began to growl. Zevvin raised his hands to placate the growling spirit in fox form. He was starting to glow a faint blue, something Zevvin hadn’t seen him do since the blight. “Wisper, calm down. He didn’t do or say anything to me. Well…”

_~Well what?!~_

The bottles that sat on Zevvin’s desk burst at the growl. Zevvin gasped, his gaze snapping over to the open tome amidst the mess. He rushed over to his desk and picked the tome up, snapping it closed and replacing it on the bookshelf. “He was the one that helped me gain insight from the soldiers. And he only placed his hand on my shoulder. It was a friendly tap. Please calm down.” Zevvin walked over to Wisper and reached his hand out to the growling fennec. Wisper flinched away from him, his growling subsiding slightly.

_~I need air.~_

Wisper jumped down from the bed and walked to the balcony.

_~Clean up your desk and get some sleep.~_

With that, the fennec jumped over the railing. Zevvin frowned. He glanced at his dripping desk with a sigh.


	3. Wakeup Call

**Char: Zevvin & Iron Bull**

**All That Glitters**

**Wakeup Call**

_“Stop!”_

Zevvin jumped at the sudden shouted command. The bottle in his hand was snatched away. He looked up and was greeted with the sight of a glowering red eye with 3 white dots underneath. Dark grey lips on a slightly lighter grey face twisted into a scowl. “Huh?” was all Zevvin managed to utter. A sigh was his answer. The face moved away and Zevvin took in the rest of the person.

The man was an elf, taller than any he’d ever seen. White hair framed his dark grey face, with a large fringe settling over his left eye, similar to Zevvin’s hair. Grey arms crossed over a broad chest as ruby glared into rubellite. “You are distracted, Zevvin.” The man spoke in a deep timbre. Zevvin blinked and looked around. He was surrounded by bookshelves. Even the floors and the ceiling were made of books. When he looked down at himself, he was wearing dark blue robes. He never wore mages robes. This looked like the _Cylion Library_. Did he fall asleep? “Yes.” Zevvin looked back up to the dark elf.

“Zahariel?”

“You almost blew yourself up. Pay attention to what you’re doing. I’d hate to see you in an early grave,” Zahariel grumbled. He turned away and scanned one of the bookshelves.

“Early? There would be nothing early about my death.”

“Hn.”

“You…why am I here?” Zevvin asked with a frown. “Wisper isn’t even in the room anymore.”

“What sort of question is that?” Zahariel asked, glancing over his shoulder. “You are here to study and review.” The long-haired elf returned to the table and sat a book down in front of him. “You know as much as I do that the wisp has nothing to do with my presence…though this time around maybe it does. Now, on to more important matters: how do you make a Lyrium potion?”

“Lyrium dust and Spindleweed,” Zevvin said with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Never you mind what I mean. Elfroot poultice?”

“Elfroot and a distilling agent. Wisper is a wisdom spirit, not a wisp.”

Zahariel narrowed his eyes. “I would not call him as such. How do you make a concentrator agent?”

“By distilling Foxite and Heatherum. Why wouldn’t you?”

“If he isn’t a Wisp, he is a Wraith. What are spirits and what are their names?”

“Spirits are inhabitants of the Fade. They also have the ability to shape the Fade. There are…too many to really name.”

“Name the most commonly encountered.”

“Spirit of Command, Compassion, Faith, Hope, Justice, Purpose, Valor, Wisdom, Duty, Honor, Learning…Love. I wouldn’t call him a Wraith either. He’s not out to kill anything. He’s never attacked someone.” Zahariel’s eyes narrowed even more.

“How do you think you are here now? You can only visit me here in the library when you’re in _Uthenera_.”  

“I…I’m not sure…He wouldn’t attack me though!” Zevvin slammed his fist on the table. “Wisper is harmless.”

“Druffalos are harmless until you push them too far. Then they are a force to be reckoned with. How do you make a cold resistance tonic?”

Zevvin was quiet. He bit his lip and glanced away from the dark elf. “I’m…not sure.”

“Hmm…” Zahariel tapped the book in between them. “This is the _Botanical Compendium_. It is one of the most recent listings of common herbs found in Thedas. I want you to study this book. I want you to know each and every herb and plant and their properties. After that, I want you to read _Hortus Metallicum_ and learn about each common metal in Thedas and their properties. From that, you will figure out how to make that tonic.”

“O-Okay.” Zevvin brought the book closer to him and flipped it open. He glanced up at the elf briefly who was giving him an unimpressed look. Looking back down at the book, his breath hitched as panic set in. He couldn’t read the words. It was like it was in a different language. He looked up at Zahariel again and opened his mouth. “I can’t-“

“You are trying to read it upside down.” The elf slid the book away from Zevvin and turned it the right way. That explained the look the dark elf was giving him. “What troubles you, little one? You are distracted. Your mind is in such a jumbled disarray, even I cannot stand to look at it.”

“Wisper is angry with me.” Zevvin bit his lip and looked down. “I went against his wishes-“

“Against his wishes?” Zahariel sat on the table with a frown. “Zevvin, why are you taking orders from a wisp?”

“For the last time, he isn’t a wisp! He is a spirit of wisdom.” Zevvin frowned and looked up at the dark elf. Zahariel’s eyes narrowed.

“Even if that is true,” Zahariel said, “why are you taking orders from a wisdom spirit? What were these wishes you went against anyway?” Zevvin looked back down at the table.

“I spoke with The Iron Bull.”

“Hn.”

Zevvin looked up and frowned. “What?”

“He is the Qunari that has you so distracted lately, is he not?” Zahariel’s eyes narrowed. Zevvin frowned.

“I…guess…but-“

“He is also the reason why I’ve been slowly growing horns.” The dark elf pointed at the top of his head and sure enough, there were the beginnings of horns poking through his white hair. “Be careful with such desires. You are more susceptible than any other to demon possession.”

Zevvin snorted. “How can I be possessed by a desire demon when I’m already possessed by a wisdom demon.” Zevvin jumped when Zahariel slammed his hand on the table.

“Do not!” He growled. “I am _not_ a demon and I would like for you to stop saying that even in jest!” Zevvin warily gazed into Zahariel’s glowing red eyes.

“I apologize…” Zevvin looked away. Zahariel sighed.

“I should reset him.”

Zevvin snapped his gaze up to Zahariel with a frown. “What?”

“I should reset him. It would seem he has…melded with some of my own desires. It has confused his psyche.”

“Your desires? What do you mean?”

Zahariel stood up and stared at Zevvin unblinkingly. He turned away and walked towards the bookshelf. Picking out one of the books, he opened it and glanced over his shoulder. “It is time for you to leave. You have been here too long.”

“But what did you mean?” Zevvin stood up as the world around him started to melt away.

“Nothing. Wake up.”

…

..

.

“…wakes…”

Zevvin groggily opened his eyes to the sight of his ceiling. A familiar shape peered over him. He stared at the blurry figure until he focused his vision. “Hm…Solas? What…are you doing up here?” Zevvin mumbled. He sat up slowly and the elven mage took a step away from his bed. Zevvin looked at the mage who was frowning at him.

“One of the kitchen staff brought up food for you. They found you at your desk,” Solas said, looking over at his desk. Zevvin followed his gaze. The desk was all clean. He didn’t remember cleaning up the liquid. “They said you were passed out at your desk surrounded by broken bottles and spilled potions.” Solas looked back at him. “You were out cold. Some of the stuff that was broken on your desk…” Solas narrowed his eyes. “What were they? Some of the staff that came to clean up found themselves in a similar unconscious state as you. Except, you’ve awaken and they have not. It has been 5 days.”

“5 days?” Zevvin squinted at Solas.

“Correct.”

“They were sleeping tonics.” Zevvin threw his feet over the side of the bed and rubbed his head. That explained why he woke up so groggily. “I was careless. I…mistakenly broke them. I went to clean them up but I guess the fumes got to me before I could manage that.”

“Why would you have so many sitting out like that?” Solas crossed his arms. “That was your first mistake.” As old as the redheaded elf acted, Solas couldn’t see him as more than a rambunctious youth at times.

“I was in the process of making them.” Zevvin glanced up at Solas through his lashes. “It was stupid. I understand.”

Solas let out a heavy sigh and uncrossed his arms. “As long as you don’t let something like this happen again. Those seemed to be rather potent tonics…why were you making them anyway? If you were having trouble with sleeping, tea would have been a better option.”

“I…” Zevvin bit his lip. “You are right…” Zevvin stood up but as soon as he managed to stand, his legs buckled under him and he fell forward. Solas caught him before he could hit the ground.

“Careful. You’ve just woken up…and your magic is completely depleted. It would seem you used it to sustain yourself as you slept. Impressive, if I might say so.”

Zevvin looked up, his eyes slightly widened. “Did I?” _So I really was in Uthenera…Those tonics were a lot more potent than I thought…I do not think that will spell well for the staff._

_~He is going to be useless for a while longer than you think.~_

Both Solas and Zevvin looked over to the desk. Wisper was sitting on his hind legs, staring out the balcony.

“Why do you say that?” Solas asked as he helped the smaller elf back on the bed.

_~It will take some time for him to replenish the magic he’s used up.~_

Wisper looked at them, an unreadable glint in his marble black eyes.

“Wisper…I-“

_~We will talk later.~_

“That would mean you need to take it easy for the next few days,” Solas said, bringing his attention back to Zevvin. Zevvin looked up at him and sighed.

“If I have been asleep for 5 days, that means that party for the Lièvremonts is soon,” Zevvin said. “If I want to make it there in time, I will have to leave tomorrow.”

“Hm…” Solas crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. “I don’t think it wise to go it alone.”

“He won’t be alone. I will be there,” Dorian said. Zevvin looked past Solas to see the human Tevinter mage standing on the stairs leaning over the railing. How hadn’t he noticed the mage before, he wasn’t so sure. “Glad to see you up and about. I almost thought you were dead.”

“I’ve tangled with demons; you really think I’d let a tonic do me in?” Zevvin quipped. Dorian smirked.

“Glad to see your humor has made a dashing comeback. You have been awfully dull lately.”

“Would you be enough?” Solas asked.

“The invitation did say plus one,” Dorian said, shrugging. “I guess if you’re up for seeing human ass kissing, you could be my plus one.” Dorian came around the stairs and sat down on the couch, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “We could use some muscle too…maybe let Iron Bull be your plus one, inquisitor? Maker knows he has enough muscle to go around for everyone.”

Solas chuckled while Zevvin’s face flushed. He glanced quickly over to Wisper but the fennec didn’t seem to be paying attention to them. He even moved. He was now sitting outside on the balcony. He looked back at Dorian, staring at him through his lashes. “Is…Is it really that obvious?”

“As plain as the nose on your face, my dear inquisitor.” Dorian chuckled.

“I shall take my leave to make preparations for our leave. Let me know if you feel a change in your condition before then, Zevvin. Good day,” Solas said, nodding his head and walking away. Dorian leaned his head back and watched the elven mage descend the stairs and leave.

“I find it…odd how you allow him to treat you as if you are a child,” Dorian said, returning his gaze to the redheaded elf. Zevvin laid back on the bed with a sigh.

“Dorian,” Zevvin mumbled. “You know why that is.”

“I know the reason, I just don’t understand it, is all. It is…strange…” Dorian smirked. “Could I-“

“If you dare use that tone of voice with me, I’ll have you across my knee.” Zevvin sat up slightly and glared at Dorian. Dorian’s smirk grew.

“Is that a threat or a promise, Inquisitor? I can work with either.”

“Ugh.” Zevvin grunted and let his head fall back. “You are still an impossible, impudent child. Have you not grown up?”

“Hmmmm…I’d like to think I have.” Dorian stood up and walked over to the bed. He sat down next to the elf and laid down next to him. Zevvin turned his head and looked at Dorian with a raised eyebrow. “What really happened?” Both of Zevvin’s eyebrows raised at that.

“What do you mean?”

“You said that you burst the bottles on your desk by accident. I was up here briefly when the staff took to cleaning it. They didn’t just fall over and break. They all burst at the same time, that’s why the entire desk was covered in it.”

Zevvin kept silent and looked away. Dorian propped himself up on his elbow and frowned. “Zevvin?”

“I may…have accidently burst them.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “I find that extremely hard to believe but…if you say so.”

Zevvin looked up when Dorian sighed. The mage pushed himself up and stared at him. Zevvin pushed himself up slightly. “What’s with the look?” Zevvin asked, cocking his head to the side slightly.

“You were in that deep hibernating sleep again.” Dorian spoke in a quiet mumble. “Though this time…you actually looked dead. It was rather…frightening.”

Zevvin frowned at the lost look on Dorian’s face. “I apologize. I hadn’t meant for any of this to happen.”

The lost look on Dorian’s face melted into a grin. “Hm. Yes, yes of course. Enough of this somberness. I shall…take example from the other elf and get ready for our leave. Maker knows the ride there will be more enjoyable than the actual party.”

Zevvin cracked a small smile as he bid the other Tevinter mage farewell.

_~Twice.~_

Zevvin looked up when he heard the fennec’s voice. Wisper walked over to the bed and hopped on it.

_~You took the blame twice.~_

Zevvin looked away with a frown. “It was my fault anyway.”

_~No. I was to blame. I am…sorry I let my emotions rule me. It was not appropriate nor beneficial.~_

Zevvin looked at the fennec with a frown. “Do you…have any objections of me bringing along Iron Bull?”

_~The altus was correct in you needing more muscle. I may not like him but his presence with you in the field would bring me peace of mind. I just…request that you do not take me with you. I do not trust myself to not…have a similar outburst as the one from earlier.~_

Wisper walked closer to Zevvin and laid his head on the mage’s chest. Zevvin placed a hand on his head and Wisper’s eyes slowly closed.

_~I lied to you earlier. I do find you interesting. I thought that if you thought I didn’t because of your recent actions, you would stop them. I’ve seemed to only make matters worse and I apologize for that.~_

One of Wisper’s eyes opened. Zevvin scratched behind the fennec’s ear and smiled. “You are forgiven.” Zevvin said. Zevvin maneuvered himself to lay straight on the bed with his head on the pillows. He placed Wisper on his chest and closed his eyes.

_~Zevvin?~_

“Yes?”

_~…Nothing. Nevermind.~_

Zevvin opened his eyes and looked at Wisper with a frown. It was the first time he had ever heard the fennec hesitate on saying something. Wisper had his eyes closed so Zevvin let the matter go…for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm losing my groove.


	4. Zevvin Who?

**Char: Zevvin & Iron Bull**

**All That Glitters**

**Zevvin Who?**

He hated carriages. It may have been the most efficient way to travel to Orlais, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Quite frankly, he didn’t really like anything about his current situation. Zevvin crossed his arms with a pout. He’d mistakenly thought they would be riding either by horseback or in an open carriage but he was sorely mistaken.

They were taking some fancy looking closed carriage. It looked similar to the Aravels the Dalish used. He at least could have been offered a window seat but _nooooo_ …Solas and Dorian just _had_ to stick him in the middle of them. They made some excuse about being surrounded by magic would help him replenish his own faster. 

"What a load of horseshit,” Zevvin had said. Solas and Dorian had only exchanged looks before bullying him into the carriage between them. “ _Kaffas_ , you two are- UGH!” He’d continued to complain and whine about the situation until he realized he wasn’t going to get his way. He, instead, decided to sulk for the rest of the trip. He ignored both Solas’s and Dorian’s attempts at conversation and just stared at the two bemused inquisition soldiers across from him.

He was stuck in betweenbullies, Solas and Dorian, with two random inquisition soldiers sitting across from him. Aubin Bissonnette and Serena Calandri, he had learned. Serena, a rogue, was the daughter of some merchant in Antiva while Aubin, a warrior, was the son of some disgraced duke from Orlais. Well, that wasn’t exactly how he had introduced himself, but Zevvin knew the name Bissonnette didn’t carry any weight to it anymore. He wouldn’t tell Aubin he knew that, though.

Iron Bull had chosen to walk along side the carriage, where he wished he could be - _and not because it was with Iron Bull! No, of course it was because he didn’t want to be cramped in between people- yeah…that’s why._ Zevvin could feel his face heat. He placed a hand on his cheek and huffed silently to himself.

They’d expended a couple of extra inquisition soldiers for the trip, considering Zevvin was sort of out of commission currently. 

That was another thing he didn’t really understand. Why was he so exhausted and why hadn’t his magic returned to him yet. He’d never been this long without it. Usually after he woke up from hibernating, it would only take him a couple hours to replenish his magic. It was taking too long and he hated the empty feeling being without mana left him. He shuddered and crossed his arms. He felt so weak and vulnerable without it. 

With a tired sigh, he leaned to his right and propped his head against Dorian’s shoulder. The other mage spared him a glance before turning his bored gaze back windowward. 

“What is the Imperium like for an elf, if you don’t mind me asking?” Aubin asked. Dorian looked at the inquisition soldier, his mouth in a thin line. He had half a mind to say something scathing to the warrior but, thankfully, was interrupted by Solas speaking.

“I think it best to save questions for later. It would seem the inquisitor is done for now,” Solas said. Dorian glanced back down at the redheaded elf to see that there was much truth to Solas’s words. The elf had actually fallen asleep without them even noticing. He still had his arms crossed tightly across his chest but his eyes were closed gently and his breathing even and slow.

Dorian had never seen anyone fall asleep that fast. The elf was _just_ talking.

…

..

.

“This is not funny at all,” Zahariel growled heatedly. Zevvin was currently leaning against a pole, bent over forward laughing, tears of mirth pricking at the corners of his eyes. Zahariel stood in front of him, arms crossed with a deep scowl on his face….wearing a pink, frilly, evening dress.

“You…you look like Empress Celene,” Zevvin laughed.

“I question your mind and why I have spawned in this ridiculous outfit.” Zahariel huffed, turning away from Zevvin. He walked forward as a couch materialized into existence. He sat down gingerly and crossed his legs. “The horns grow as well. Is there something you’re not telling me, Zevvin?”

“Is there something _you’re_ not telling _me_?” Zevvin stood up straight and wiped the corners of his eyes. “That…I needed that laugh.” Zahariel was silent as he looked away. Zevvin pouted. “Oh…come now, don’t be so upset. I think you’re rather dashing in that outfit.” Zahariel turned to look at Zevvin with a frown.

“No…That’s not it.” Zahariel stood up and sighed. “This is…rather concerning, Zevvin.”

“That you’re in a dress?” Zevvin raised an eyebrow. “I make no judgment, honestly, Hara.”

“Must you butcher my name so?” Zahariel gave Zevvin an annoyed look. The redhead just shrugged.

“Why is you wearing a dress concerning? Besides the part that you’re wearing a dress.” Zevvin smirked. Zahariel stood walked over to Zevvin.

“Your mind concerns me.” Zahariel sighed. Zevvin frowned as the environment began to melt away.

“Why would it?”

“There’s something missi-“

…

..

.

Zevvin’s eyes snapped open when the carriage jolted suddenly. He groggily lifted his head from the bulky mass of- Zevvin’s eyes widened and he jerked backwards. He wasn’t leaning against Dorian anymore. Dorian was now sitting across from him with Solas. The two both looked like they were asleep sitting up. He looked up at Iron Bull. The Qunari was looking down at him with a raised eyebrow. “You okay, boss?”

That seemed to wake both mages across from him. They both opened their eyes and peered at Zevvin with sleep hazed concerned eyes. “Yes,” Zevvin grumbled lowly, turning his head away from them to hide a blush.

The carriage door opened and Dorian gave a sigh of relief. “Finally. I was starting to get stiff,” Dorian said with another sigh. “And not in the good way.” 

Iron Bull snorted at that. 

Dorian stepped out of the carriage, followed by Solas then Iron Bull. Zevvin was the last to step out and nearly tripped over himself with his legs refusing to cooperate. Iron Bull steadied the elf and the redhead patted the Qunari’s arm in thanks.

They were led through the front door by a lanky elven servant dressed in gold silks. They stopped briefly in the grand hall, looking more like a small foyer, before they were then led upstairs to the rooms. “I wasn’t expecting you both to bring a plus one,” Bertrand said, crossing his arms.

“Last minute changes,” Dorian explained. “We didn’t think we’d be bringing a plus one either.”

“I apologize but I only have three rooms available.” Bertrand looked at Iron Bull with barely disguised disgust. Iron Bull simply raised an eyebrow. “There is an inn nearby, however, if you’d like to stay there instead.” Bertrand’s gaze slowly trailed from Iron Bull to Solas then Zevvin. His gaze settled back on Dorian with a raised eyebrow. “Forgive me but which one of you is actually the inquisitor?” He looked between Solas and Zevvin. “I had heard he was an elf but that was the only description of appearance I was given.”

Zevvin raised a finger. “That would be me,” Zevvin said. “We’ll make use of the rooms you have here, do not worry.”

“I see,” Bertrand said. He looked Zevvin over slowly, nodding slightly to himself as if in approval of some unspoken standard. “The rooms are down this hall.” Bertrand made a flourishing gesture down the hall before walking in that direction. “I do hope it is to your liking. I shall see you all in the morn. Breakfast will be prepared.” with that, Bertrand took his leave. Iron Bull crossed his arms.

“What an asshole,” Iron Bull mumbled.

“Orlais is the capitol of assholadom,” Zevvin said, snorting. Dorian and Iron Bull snickered while Solas just sighed.

“I do hope you’re on your best behavior at the party, Inquisitor,” Solas said. Zevvin looked at him with a frown.

“I won’t do anything untoward, if that’s what you’re worried abo- well nothing _too_ untoward.”

“I see a little bit more of Dorian in you everyday.” Solas shook his head. He sounded dismayed. He looked at Dorian who raised his eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, _mamae_ , I won’t do anythingmischievous.” Zevvin grinned. Solas rolled his eyes.

“So how are we rooming?” Iron Bull asked.

“Dorian and I-“ “You and Zevvin-“ Dorian and Zevvin looked at each other with a frown. Solas sighed and shook his head. Iron Bull just shook his head.

“I think you and Iron Bull should share the room,” Dorian said with a grin.

“ _Dorian_ ,” Zevvin warned, his eyes narrowing but his cheeks tinting pink. Dorian rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine.”

“Then it’s settled,” Solas said. “We shall see each other in the morning.”

…

..

.

Dorian settled under the covers. He turned on his side, resting a hand under his pillow to stare at the inquisitor. Zevvin was laying on his back staring blankly at the ceiling. “Hey,” Dorian mumbled. Zevvin slowly turned to look at him. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed out of it ever since we stepped in the carriage.”

“Just…exhausted…but now I can’t fall asleep,” Zevvin said, bringing his gaze back up to the ceiling. Dorian was quiet while he studied the side of the elf’s face in the moonlight.

“Do you remember that song you used to sing to me when I was young? When I couldn’t fall asleep?” Dorian asked suddenly. Zevvin turned to look at him with a confused furrow in his brow.

“Hmmm… _Weibt du, wieviel Sternlein stehen, an dem blauen Himmelszelt,_ ” Zevvin spoke softly.

“ _Weibt du, wieviel Wolken ziehen,_ ”Dorian spoke just as softly as Zevvin. Zevvin turned to look at Dorian with a grin. His grin suddenly turned solemn.

“What’s wrong?” Dorian asked. Zevvin turned away from Dorian, his heart suddenly in a vice-like grip.

“I’m not sure…” 

…

..

.

“You’re here again within the same day,” Zahariel said. Zevvin looked up with a frown. He looked around at the stone fortress they were standing in the courtyard of. It looked familiar but he couldn’t quite put a name to it. The fortress looked like it had seen better days, though. The large, grey, pillars were falling apart, chunks of stone missing from the steps, and the ground was scorched black.

“Where are we?” Zevvin asked. Zahariel was sitting up high on one of the stone pillar arches.

“You don’t know.” It wasn’t a question. Zahariel frowned. “Zevvin, what’s your name.” Zevvin raised an eyebrow.

“Zevvin is my name. You just said it.”

A few moments of silence passed before Zahariel spoke up again. “How do you make a concentration agent?”

“By distilling Foxite and Heatherum.”

“Name 3 rare herbs and where they’re commonly found.”

“Crystal Grace, Dragonthorne, and Amrita Vein. Crystal Grace can be found in Fereldan, most commonly the Hinterland region but can also be found in the forest region of the Dales in Orlais. Dragonthorne and Amrita Vein can be found in the western desert region of Orlais.”

“What’s the capital of Fereldan?”

“Denerim.”

“Orlais?”

“Val Royeaux.”

“What’s your full name.” 

Zevvin paused. He cocked his head to the side slightly. Then shrugged. The world around him slowly began to melt away.

“Where were you born?” 

“The Tevinter Imperium.”

Zahariel frowned. “When?”

Zevvin opened his mouth. Then closed it. He wasn’t even sure. “I don’t remember.”

“Who are your parents?”

“I…don’t know…”

“Where is your family?”

“…”

“Who am _I_?” Zahariel narrowed his eyes at Zevvin’s continued silence. “You don’t remember anything.” Again, it wasn’t a question. “Why is that?”

“I don’t…I’m not sure.”

“Zevvin, we are in Anderfels at the Weisshaupt Fortress.” Zahariel shook his head slowly as he started to fade away with the melting environment. 

Zahariel’s voice echoed in the darkness, “Why is that you can remember everything but things about yourself?”


	5. Vitae Benefaria

**Char: Zevvin & Iron Bull**

**All That Glitters**

**Vitae Benefaria**

Zevvin groggily opened his eyes. Blinking the sleep haze away, he slowly turned on his side to look at the window. The sky was dark with the beginnings of orange and red bleeding over the horizon. Dawn. Zevvin sighed silently and slipped out of the bed. He looked at Dorian briefly. The mage was fast asleep, laying on his back with his hands over his head. Zevvin shook his head silently and headed for the door.

Zevvin wandered through the halls absentmindedly. His wanderings brought him into the kitchen. The kitchen was modest in size, looking to be just a bit smaller than the kitchen back in Skyhold. The set up was almost exactly the same. He stood by the door as he watched the 3 elven servants bustle around the room, chattering amongst themselves almost happily. He could hear, from his position, that they were speaking of him; they couldn’t believe the rumors that the inquisitor was an elf was true.

Zevvin frowned. He couldn’t help but feel wary that the fact he was an elf made them feel he was representing all elves in Thedas. That just wasn’t true. The only elf he was representing was himself. In fact, he found himself getting along more with humans than he did his own kind. Wisper hadn’t spoken lies when he’d said Zevvin never found an elf interesting… _in that way._

He felt his face heat up as his disgruntled thoughts switched to Iron Bull. He shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. He wasn't really successful until a gasp and a crash made him come back to reality. One of the elves had spotted him and in her surprised, dropped a platter of food. “Lord Inquisitor!”

Everyone snapped their gaze to the entrance of the kitchen at the squealed shout. Zevvin even saw a couple heads poke in through a side room on the left. “Did you need something, my lord? How about a morning snack before breakfast?” One of the other servants asked. 

Zevvin shook his head.

“Creators, Velarill, this is the 5th plate you’ve broken this week!” Another servant shouted. Zevvin made his way over to the nervous elven woman. She was shakily picking up the glass piece, dropping them just as fast as she was picking them up. Zevvin kneeled next to her and the redheaded woman snapped her gaze up to him.

“Oh! Lord Inquisitor, you needn’t-“

“I’ll help. It’s partially my fault. I hadn’t meant to startle you,” Zevvin said with a small smile. Another elven servant - a brunette dressed in green -came up on the side of him as Velarill smiled.

“Thank you, Lord Inquisitor!”

“Please, call me Zevvin,” Zevvin insisted. Velarill face flushed a brilliant red as the servant beside her cleared her throat.

“A word, later?” She whispered. Zevvin nodded his head silently, only sparing the other elven woman a sideways glance.

…

..

.

Zevvin spent much of the early morning with the servants. He’d helped them clean up the kitchen, prepare breakfast, and even taught them a few techniques that would quicken their prep time. The servants were immediately taken by Zevvin’s kind and helpful nature. They became fast friends and had even told him much about the lord of the manor. Bertrand, as Zevvin had suspected earlier, had a thing for elves. He never acted on it, to their knowledge, beyond employing elves to look at. It was obvious in his admiration of those he employed as they were usually the main attraction to his parties.

They cautioned Zevvin about some of the guests Bertrand usually invites who were _not_ so restrained with their infatuation with elves. He’d even got a tearful admission from one of the female servants about one such guest that had forced himself on her. He has so far been to all the gatherings Bertrand throws and she had only crossed paths with him once or twice every so often.

As Zevvin walked down the hall towards his temporary chambers, he was stopped by a hand on his wrist. He turned slightly to regard the slightly taller elven woman, Talim, he recalled. “Yes?” He asked. She looked down the way they had come before motioning with her head towards the door to their left.

“May I have a word with you alone, my lord?” She asked. 

“Of course.” Zevvin nodded and allowed her to lead him into the room she had been indicating. The room she led him in looked to be a study. It was not small but it wasn’t large either. There was a large bookcase on the far left and back wall with a desk in the middle of the room. On the right wall, there was a fire roaring in the fireplace.“What is it?”

“My lord, I have not been entirely truthful with you s-“ Zevvin held his hand up to stop her.

“Zevvin,” he corrected. Talim paused and stared at him. She relented with a short sigh. “You’re one of Leliana’s men,” he stated rather then asked. Talim nodded.

“Zevvin,” she said, pulling a scroll from her shirt. She handed it to Zevvin. He opened it, sat down in front of the desk, and read over the simple missive. It was just simply a mission to gather information on Bertrand before the Inquisitor arrived and relay any information she gathered to him. He looked up at her and nodded for her to continue. “How did you figure?” Zevvin shrugged.

“Lucky guess.” 

Talim frowned and hesitated with her next words. “They were being truthful,” Talim said, taking the scroll back. She walked over to the fire place. She tossed the scroll in and turned back to Zevvin. She leaned on the space next to the fire place and crossed her arms. “Though they did skip out on a few tidbits of information, probably to keep from being punished. Bertrand does look but he does touch. So does his Tevinter contact. You’ve noticed some of the servants wearing gold, correct?” At this, Zevvin nodded, recalling the servant that had escorted them to their rooms.

“These servants are acquired slaves. They were brought in through the one from Tevinter, this contact he’s supposedly has. Damian. The man isn’t just a blacksmith, he’s slave trader too.” 

“And this is the reasoning behind their connection?” Zevvin asked, furrowing his brow. “Bertrand is running some type of elven brothel, I assume?”

“Exactly.” Talim crossed her arms with a frown. The door behind them creaked open. Both Zevvin and Talim looked over there. A small, redheaded elven woman peaked her head in the room. Sharp, peridots widened when their gaze landed on Zevvin. Zevvin recognized the elf as the servant from the kitchen. “Come in Velarill.” The woman slowly slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. She was wearing a golden colored robe with red trim, a far cry from the brown tunic and pants she was wearing earlier. “This is Velarill, an informant we’ve been keeping in contact with as we observed Bertrand. She’s given us much of the details about this brothel operation he has going on.”

“When…When he throws the party…” Velarill whispered. “It’s usually…when they do the trading…some of us disappear and then new servants come in.” The redheaded woman bit her lip and looked down. “There is a passageway around the back that leads to a shop near the harbor.”

“Jader may not be Val Royeaux, but that doesn’t make it any smaller. You know which shop it leads to?” Zevvin asked, crossing his arms. Velarill glanced at Talim briefly before looking at Zevvin.

“I-I…I…I don’t know…We were blindfolded when we came in. I only know about the passage because I…saw new servants being brought in one day…” Velarill gripped her arm and bit her lip. “I-I’m sorry…I’m not much help.” She looked between the two before whispering. “H…He…like redheads…” 

“Thanks Velarill, you’ve been a huge help,” Talim said, nodding. Velarill bowed and backed out of the room. Talim returned her gaze to Zevvin.

“I haven’t exactly figured out if he has some ulterior motive in inviting you. It seems like he genuinely would like to align with the Inquisition, but doing so while inviting you to his…brothel party seems out of sorts.”

“Maybe he thinks the inquisition could farther his business? Grow it?” Zevvin asked. Talim closed her eyes and sighed.

“I do hope it isn’t that.” She opened her eyes and looked Zevvin over with a frown. Zevvin raised a curious eyebrow. “He likes redheads…”

“It is impossible that he planned this down to the tooth like that. If I hadn’t have spoken up, he wouldn’t have even known I was the inquisitor.” 

“Whose to say it is even Bertrand? It could be solely Damian’s idea. Maybe we can use this to our advantage?” Talim crossed her arms. “We could bait him into reveling his plans and then stop everyone involved.”

Zevvin frowned and shook his head. “Ordinarily, I would agree, however I am not up to strength right now. I…” Zevvin trailed off and looked away. “Just cannot put myself in such a position…without backup. We don’t even know if its Bertrand or the contact that’s the mastermind behind this…operation.”

“They’re both involved in some way, though, so we should nip it in the ass while we have the chance.” Talim narrowed her eyes.

“I’m not sticking my neck out for what _may_ be.” Zevvin crossed his arms. “We don’t even know which is who.”

“This is some jackass from Tevinter. I _know_ he’s deep in this. We just need to figure out whether or not Bertrand is really-“

“What does him coming from Tevinter have anything to do with anything?” Zevvin cut the elven woman off. Talim narrowed her eyes even more and uncrossed her arms.

“Are you kidding me?”

“You’re supposed to be one of Leliana’s men and you’re basing all this off of stereotypes instead of actual evidence?” Zevvin felt his voice raising. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Look, Inquisitor, I don’t know what your masters back in Tevinter taught you,” Talim said. Zevvin’s eyes narrowed to deadly slits as the elven woman continued, “but here on this side of the country, this is _not_ right. Slavery-“

“ _My masters_?” Zevvin asked incredulously. “What gives you the right to assume anything?!”

Talim stepped away from the wall and stormed over to the desk. She slammed her fist into the desk, towering over Zevvin’s slightly smaller form. “I know damn well what goes on in Tevinter. Just because you happened to get friendly masters doesn’t mean the rest of the elven population that has the misfortune of being slaves in that hellhole of a country has gotten the same treatment as you!” Zevvin leaned his head back and stared at Talim. 

This was one of things he wanted to avoid. One of the reason he never touched on this subject with anyone outside of the Imperium - hell he never even discussed with people _inside_. The conversation always got so heated to the point everyone was ready to exchange blows. And by the way the veins were popping out of Talim’s forehead, Zevvin knew the elf was one step away from throttling him. He wasn’t in the best of shapes to be picking fights with anyone.

Taking his silence as defeat, Talim sighed and backed off slightly. “Look, you’re young,” Talim started, running her hand through her short, black hair. She didn’t say anything farther, she instead opted to stare at the redhead. Zevvin frowned. She suddenly sighed and spoke again: “I can understand why you think what I’m saying is unfair, but-“

“I can see you’re allowing past grievances get in the way of your judgement.” Zevvin stood up and shook his head. “The way you feel about Tevinter, I feel about elves.” Zevvin turned towards the door, glancing at a bewildered Talim over his shoulder. “If I let the past cloud my judgement, I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you.”

“Look, Inquisitor, I didn’t bring you in here to start an argument.”

“Pretty fine damn job you’ve done so far, Talim. And I told you to call me Zevvin.” 

“Creators…why do you jump when the humans command you to hop but when the elves _ask_ you to walk, you sit there and do _nothing_?” Talim asked.

“ _Vitae benefaria,_ Talim, _”_ Zevvin said, pushing the door open. Talim let out an angry growl at the muttered Tevene phrase. “I will look into it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vitae Benefaria (Tevene) = A respectful goodbye
> 
> Apologies for the long wait and if this chapter isn't what you expected. Been under a lot of stress lately and it has been really hard to think of anything. Next chapter I'm planning to start some real action.


	6. Amor Et Deceptus

**Char: Zevvin & Iron Bull**

**All That Glitters**

**Amor Et Deceptus**

Zevvin was pissed. Outwardly, he didn’t show it much, but Dorian could tell right away something was up with the small redhead. When Zevvin walked in the room, Dorian was just pulling on his boots. Zevvin was still dressed in his sleep clothes so Dorian assumed the elf had been up for quite some time.

Zevvin walked straight to his clothing he’d sat aside the night before, glanced at Dorian once, scoffed, then turned back to, angrily, pull his gear on. Dorian watched the redhead struggle with his arm bindings for a full 5 minutes before he walked over to the elf to give him a hand. “Can you believe her?” Zevvin finally blurted as Dorian tied the final knot on his arm bindings. Dorian sat down next to Zevvin and watched him pull his boots on. “My  _masters_ ?  _Masters?_ Who gives her the right to assume such a thing? I am owned by  _no one!_ ” Zevvin seethed.

“Hmm, she really must have lost her mind to assume anyone owns the great Zevvin The Wise,” Dorian said, raising an eyebrow when Zevvin simply nodded.

“Exactly! She has some nerve to say I was _taught_ by humans to act a certain way — as if I don’t have any free will of my own — _She called me a slave! A slave! SLAVE! ME!”_

“How absurd!” 

“EXACTLY!! If I went around making stereotypical assumptions about everyone I met, I wouldn’t start a conversation with a Fereldan and I’d want to burn the whole of Orlais to the ground! Not to mention Marchers are annoying and the Creators forsaken Dalish elves and their crackpot theories of what was and wasn’t!”

“She should be ashamed!” Dorian quirked an amused eyebrow as Zevvin stood and stomped his foot. 

“Yes! She should be fired from a trebuchet— No, no!” His next words were all spoken in one breath. “I want to _burn_ her alive, skin the scabs from her _burnt flesh_ and hang her by her toes while _wolves_ nibble at her fingertips and crows peck out her eyes— _etiam?!_ ” Dorian had begun to snicker causing Zevvin to glare at him and exclaim in Tevene. “Why do you find this amusing?”

“Who exactly are we talking about, Zevvin?”

“One of Leliana’s pawns! _I’VE BEEN TEACHING THE LOT OF RIFTRAFFS IN MINRATHOUS FOR DECADES!_ For her to-to just insinuate that my services to Tevinter had been commanded of me-” Zevvin balled his hands into fists and stomped his foot again. He dropped his head down and his shoulders began to shake. “THE NERVE OF HER! She’s lucky I don’t have access to my magic or I would have fried her ass and gave her as a snack to Jubbs!” 

Dorian stood up and placed his hands on the elf‘s shaking shoulders. His grin had long since melted into a frown when he realized the elf was going from his normal complaining to something more.

“Breathe, Zevvin. Take a deep breath and breathe,” Dorian said. Zevvin did as he was instructed and slowly looked up at Dorian with a frown. “I haven’t heard you use Jubbs as a threat in a long time. What exactly led up to a conversation of her calling you a slave?” 

The two stared at each other in silence before Zevvin pulled away from Dorian and crossed his arms. “Dorian-” Whatever Zevvin was going to say was interrupted by someone knocking at the door. Zevvin, with his arms still crossed, turned his gaze away towards the window on the far left side of the room. Dorian rolled his eyes and sighed. He walked over to the door and opened it.

Talim stood on the other side of the door, a look of surprise on her face. “Oh- I thought this was the Inquisitor’s room.”

At the sound of her voice, Zevvin stiffened. He gave a low growled cuss in Tevene and Dorian glanced over at him. “Yes, this is. It is also my room. Did you need something?” Dorian asked. He looked at her and had to keep the smirk from gracing his face when he noticed the elf’s eyes narrow.

“Ah…Well…I was told to tell the Inquisitor that…breakfast would be served soon. Lord Bertrand is waiting in the dining hall for him.” She nodded curtly.

“Yes, yes. I see. I will let him know. You may return to your duties,” Dorian said. With that said, he shut the door in her face without another word. He heard her mutter something on the other side of the door in elven and he smirked. He turned and looked at Zevvin who was giving him an amused look.

“You didn’t have to do that. Now she’s really going to think everyone from Tevinter are evil bastards hell bent on controlling everyone,” Zevvin mumbled. Dorian chuckled and walked over to Zevvin. He placed a hand on the shorter mage’s shoulder and grinned.

“I think Corypheus is doing a fine job of that for us, don’t you think?” Dorian grinned and Zevvin returned the grin.

“Indeed.” 

Dorian frowned. “What I don’t understand is why Bertrand is specifically asking for you only to attend breakfast.”

“Well,” Zevvin sighed, “before Talim decided to insult me, she let me in on something I had already been suspecting since we first met Bertrand. He has a thing for elves.” 

Dorian crossed his arms and frowned. “And you’re thinking of using that to your advantage to uncover something more diabolical than meets the eye, is that right?” Zevvin squinted up at Dorian.

“How did you even know?”

“Zevvin, how long have I known you?” Dorian smirked. Zevvin narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t want to play this game, young man.” 

Dorian’s smirk melted away into a scowl. He huffed and turned his nose up. “I’ll have you know, I probably have much more embarrassing tales of you than you have of me. Like that crush you had on my magic instructor.”

Zevvin’s face flushed. He crossed his arms and walked passed Dorian. “ _Festis bei umo canavarum…_ ” Zevvin mumbled in Tevene. Dorian laughed as he followed behind the elf.

…

..

.

Zevvin followed behind Talim as she led him to the dinning hall. Zevvin had to fight the others to allow him to go alone. He didn’t want to appear too suspicious by coming in with another. He’d assured them all that there were a few of Leliana’s men stationed within the ranks of the servants and one of the inquisition soldiers would be standing guard.

Zevvin sat down gingerly on the chair that Talim pulled out for him. She pushed the chair in and frowned down at him. “Be careful…” she whispered. “You won’t be meeting with Bertrand, but -“

“Ah, Inquisitor.”

Talim and Zevvin looked up at the newcomer. It was a man dressed in silver, plated armor. By the stitching and patching of the grey under coat of the armor, Zevvin knew it was Vanguard armor. But instead of the usual Griffon in mid flight on the chest plate, it was stained gold and red with the Tevinter Heraldry. Unruly curly, black hair framed a strong face. Deep amber eyes bore into Zevvin‘s own rubelite ones. Zevvin stood from his chair as the man approached.

“ _Avana, my Lord Inquisitor,”_ the man spoke in Tevene. “I am Caelus Damian. I am an expert smith from Minrathous. I specialize in magic smithing.” 

Zevvin tilted his head slightly to the side and allowed a small smile to grace his face. Something was a little odd about how the smithy was introducing himself. He held his hand out.

“ _Avana._ It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Sir Damian. Please, call me Zevvin.”

Caelus all but leered at Zevvin as he took the elf’s hand in his and brought it up to his lips. He pressed his lips gently to the back of his hand. Zevvin had to fight the urge to snatch his hand away. His smile faltered slightly but he kept his bearings. “Call me Caelus, then, my Lord,” Caelus pulled his mouth away from Zevvin’s hand and gazed down at him. “I had heard stories of you, my Lord, and none of them have attested to the true measures of your beauty.”

Zevvin felt his cheeks flush in genuine embarrassment. It wasn‘t very often people complimented his looks - hell he didn‘t believe he’d received many compliments at all, especially to his face - _with the exception of Iron Bull...but that may have only been him trying to make him feel better...he couldn’t possibly think that, could he? Wisper said so_ . Most people found him too intimidating to speak to. With the exception of Dorian, of course--  _but he was a brat and that didn‘t count. Dorian was like a child...an impudent child he felt like kicking in the shin right about now -_ “I apologize, but, I’ve heard very little about you,” Zevvin said, finally pulling his hand away from the taller human and turning to look away from him. 

Caelus chuckled, pulling away from Zevvin completely. “I’m sure you haven’t. You are from Caimen Brea, are you not?”

“Ah, yes.” Zevvin frowned inwardly. _'How much information about me is circling around in rumor pockets?’_ “I traveled a lot, however.” Zevvin looked back up at Caelus and raised an eyebrow. “I had been expecting Bertrand but I assume it is you who I shall be having breakfast with this morning?”

“It is.” Caelus smiled.

“Very well,” Zevvin said, glancing to Talim, who had backed away into the corner of the room. She bowed and took her leave. Zevvin returned his gaze to Caelus as the man pulled his chair out for him. Zevvin resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he, once again, sat gingerly in the chair and, _once again_ , someone - being Caelus- pushed the chair in for him. _‘I am not going to like the rest of my stay here, I can already tell. This day has been dreadful...How I wish I had Wisper to speak to...’_ Zevvin sighed inwardly as he tuned back into whatever Caelus had been speaking to him about. Something about a dragon.

“It had to have been 30 metres wide, but I managed to take it down with a few well placed arrows and a well placed blow to the neck with my sword.” Caelus was looking proud by the end of his _heroic_ tale of besting a dragon. Zevvin propped his head on his elbow and pushed his plate away.

“Is this truly proper meal conversation? I mean I love blood and guts as much as the next guy, but hearing about such details while eating?” Zevvin scoffed. “You sound like a Fereldan.” His eyes widened a moment later as he realized he had said that out loud. “I apologize, I thought I had...thought that.” Caelus only laughed.

“You are a magister through and through.” Caelus shook his head and let out another laugh. Zevvin raised an eyebrow but then shrugged.

“I suppose you’re right, hm?” Zevvin picked up his fork and picked at the meat on his plate.

“I would like to ask you...” Caelus began, making Zevvin look at him. The human warrior sat down a napkin on top of his empty plate and rubbed the back of his neck. “Would you accompany me on a little stroll? The weather is gorgeous today and it’d be a waste to stay cooped up in the manor waiting for the start of the gathering.”

“Sounds delightful.” Zevvin smiled.

...

..

.

The morning flew by without much incident. Zevvin could say he genuinely enjoyed the outing with Caelus. Besides the man being a little more touchy-feely than he was comfortable with, he was rather charming and had many interesting things to talk about. They’d spoken about Caelus’s childhood, growing up in Minrathous, and even the  _real_ reason he left the Imperium. It had nothing to do with him having no magical abilities, something that wasn’t true as he was a mage just not that strong with his magic. It had more to do with his ideals and his preferences of bed partners. His father wasn’t so much angry that he liked men, he was angry at the fact he liked elves and had been one of the few opposed to slavery.

Zevvin told him a little bit about himself. He let the human know he had lived most of his life in the Caimen Brea but had moved around a lot, working as a private tutor to people within Qarius, Trevis, and Minrathous. He’d let slip that he enjoyed riding and had even had his own Dracolisk that had been a gift from a friend.

For what might have been the 20th time that day, Zevvin felt Caelus place a hand on his hip. Zevvin looked at him from the corner of his eye. Caelus, taking Zevvin’s lack of a negative response,  _again,_ pulled Zevvin gently into him. He smiled down at the short mage before leading them into another shop.

_Zel’Ahna Gems_

There was an elven woman behind the counter. The tanned woman looked up at them when they approached the counter. She tucked a strand of her braided, red hair behind her ear and smiled at them. When she glanced down at Caelus’s hand, her smile faltered slightly. “Welcome to Zel’Ahna Gems. I’m Zel’Ahna, what can I help you two with?” She asked, looking between Zevvin and Caelus. Zevvin cocked his eyebrow. How in the world did an elf come to own anything within  _Orlais_ of all places outside of an alienage.

“I’m looking for a specific jewel. A multicolored Tourmaline,” Caelus said. Zel’Ahna tapped her chin.

“I think I have exactly what you’re looking for,” she said. She turned around, purposely in Zevvin’s eyes, bent down at the waist to dig in a low cabinet. Zevvin felt Caelus’s grip around him tighten slightly before he felt a light pressure on his temple. He looked up to see Caelus gazing at him, almost dreamily.

Zevvin inwardly frowned. He didn’t very much like that look at all. “I have the perfect jewel in mind that would match lovingly with your own beautiful pink Tourmalines,” Caelus said. He let his other hand brush across Zevvin’s cheek. Zevvin tensed and outwardly frowned. Caelus, sensing he had probably overstepped by touching Zevvin’s face, pulled back slightly from the short mage. Zevvin felt the man’s grip around his waist loosen slightly. He was tempted to pull completely from the man but didn’t feel like thrusting them into anymore awkwardness than that touch had caused.

“Here we are,” Zel’Ahna said, gaining their attention. She placed a tray on the table with 4 different gems wrapped by a braided cord. The 4 Tourmalines were cut in different shapes and their coloring was slightly different. One of the Tourmalines was cut into a barrel shaping, it was deep green and red. The one next to that was the same coloring but it was a stone and shaped like an oval. The one next to that had a pear cut, it was deep blue at the top, trailing into green then to pink and deep red at the bottom. The one next to that was in a triangle cut and it was a mix of green and pink.

“The tear drop one. It is perfect,” Caelus said. He took his arm from around Zevvin and picked the gem up. He turned to Zevvin and place it again the mage’s chest. Zevvin looked up at him and cocked his head to the side. “This is the one. How much is it?” Caelus looked back at Zel’Ahna.

“The normal price for the Tourmaline plus the pear cut is 5 Royals and 50 Crowns,” Zel’Ahna said, “but I will give you this for only 2 Royals.”

“Thank you, Zel’Ahna,” Caelus said.

“Please, it is the least I can do for all you’ve done for me, Lord Devereaux.” She smiled at him and Zevvin raised an eyebrow. Caelus spared her a glance before looking back at Zevvin.

“May I use your back room?” Caelus asked.

“Of course, it is right through that door where it always is. Take your time, my lord.” Zel’Ahna smiled. Caelus nodded to her and looked at Zevvin with a smile.

“I will be only a moment, Zevvin,” Caelus said, brushing his lips against Zevvin’s temple before walking towards the back of the shop. Zevvin swiped at his temple, narrowing his eyes slightly at Caelus’s retreating back.

“You should be more grateful for Lord Paelus’s attentions,” Zel’Ahna said. Zevvin looked at her with a frown.

“Why is that?” Zevvin asked.

“He is a very generous man.” She leaned across the counter and glared at Zevvin. “But do not read into his attentions too much. He is just being nice because he knows you’re probably not used to it.”

“Excuse me?” Zevvin crossed his arms. He felt his ire raising steadily as the elven woman smirked at him.

“If you’ve not noticed, the only reason he has taken such a fancy towards you is because of your hair. It reminds him of me.”

Zevvin shrugged, less than caring. “Sounds like you’re jealous.” 

Zel’Ahna’s smirk melted away into a scowl. “Jealous of what? A slave drooling over Caelus in the hopes he’ll buy them?” Zevvin stalked over to the counter and slammed his hands down. He glared up at the slightly taller woman who flinched away.

“ _Tine-ti vestra. Tua na se quae loquuntur tibi!_ ” Zevvin growled in Tevene. “I am owned by _no one!_ ” 

“I-I...”

“I am finished,” Caelus said, making an appearance. He stared between the shaken store owner and the seething mage. He approached Zevvin and placed a hand on the tense elf’s shoulder. Zevvin turned his glare to Caelus. Slowly, Zevvin’s angry disposition dissipated with a slow exhale. “May I put it on you?” Zevvin nodded. He held his hair up away from his neck and allowed the taller man to place the braided cord around his neck. As soon as the cord touched his skin, he felt a surge of energy. He shivered and looked up at Caelus in confusion.

“What did you do to it?” Zevvin asked.

“The cord is enchanted with a magical ward that will help protect against all elements of magic. It isn’t a very strong ward, but its something. Touch the stone,” Caelus said, smiling. Zevvin did as he was told and picked up the multicolored Tourmaline. It was warm to the touch but he could feel the currents of magic in the stone. It sort of felt like...

“Storm magic?” Zevvin asked, looking up. Caelus smiled. As he begin to talk, Zevvin looked back down at the stone.

“The gem is enchanted with spirit and storm magic. The restoration enchantment helps speed up recovery when you’re injured. The storm magic enchantment enhances storm magic.” 

Zevvin looked sharply at Caelus, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You know I’m a storm mage?”

“I had a hunch,” Caelus said, smiling. “Even though you’re using some type of potion to mask your magic energy, your personality...just seems like you were a storm mage. Beautiful, dangerous, and untameable.”

Zevvin let up on his suspicious glare, but he was still on edge. Who was this man. “Thank you. This was...very thoughtful.”

“Let us return to the manor, I’m sure your party is wondering where you disappeared to,” Caelus said, chuckling. Caelus bowed slightly and gestured for Zevvin to walk ahead of him. “After you, Lord Inquisitor.”

Zevvin smiled when he heard the elven woman behind the counter gasp and start stammering. Zevvin walked out of the shop as Caelus paid the woman. Zevvin couldn’t help but notice he paid in full instead of taking the discount Zel’Ahna gave him.

...

..

.

Zevvin had his arms crossed as he walked alongside Caelus. The man kept his hands to himself since they left the shop. Zevvin was chuckling at some tale Caelus had been telling him about a horse breeder from Vol Dorma that had accidently sold him his prized stallion for just a few silver coins. “He was devastated. He’d contacted me with so many letters, I had to have a bookcase for them all.”

“Did you give it back?” Zevvin asked. Caelus shook his head.

“I had grown fond of the horse. I sent him back a letter with a pouch of gold and in return he thanked me profusely,” Caelus said. 

“How honorable of you.” Zevvin glanced at Caelus from the corner of his eye. Caelus was looking at him with a dreamy look on his face again. It made Zevvin extremely wary.

“Zevvin, this gathering...will bring together some...less than reputable people.” 

Zevvin turned his attention fully to Caelus. The two stopped walking and faced each other. “What do you mean?”

“I am saying to be careful.” Caelus frowned. “Do not drink anything anyone but the servants give you.” Zevvin raised an eyebrow. “There may be those who are trying to poison you.”

“They aren’t so fond of the idea an elf is leading anything, is that right?” Zevvin asked. Caelus nodded. “But there is something more you’re not telling me, is there not?” Caelus paused. He smiled a moment later.

“You are very perceptive, Zevvin. I find it...refreshing.” Caelus sighed and crossed his arms. “There are some who bring their servants here to sell. It is an illegal slave trade. I do not have much influence in Orlais as these nobles do so...I can’t really expose anything. The most I can do is try to buy as many slaves as possible in order to free them.”

“You were the one who invited me,” Zevvin said rather then asked. “You need my help to expose this fiasco and stop those involved.” Caelus grinned.

“Exactly.”

“I will help you, but there is something you must know.” Zevvin sighed. “I am not using a potion to mask my magic. I am unable to use my magic. It is locked inside of me.” Caelus furrowed his brow with a frown.

“I see...this is the reason you have had agents everywhere?” Caelus asked. Zevvin blinked and tilted his head to the side slightly. Caelus grinned. “Change in the staff tipped me off. I do not think Bertrand has even noticed.”

“So...you knew the inquisition was looking in on you?” Zevvin asked. Caelus nodded.

“I was sure that you wouldn’t come here without first scouting out the place. I also mentioned I was a smith from Tevinter. It was a hunch that you would see this as useful to your cause.”

“And inviting Dorian?”

“I knew you had some sort of connection with the Altus. I was hoping that connection was strong enough for him to convince you to come.”

“Why the name Paelus de Devereaux?” Zevvin frowned.

“To keep this from getting back to my father. He’d probably send someone to kill me for damaging the family name even farther than I’ve already managed.” Caelus sighed and looked away. He looked back at Zevvin. “I believe I have an idea. If you could pass along the message to your agents, we could quite possibly pull this off without bloodshed.” Zevvin nodded.

“So what’s your plan?”

“Well...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> etiam = what (exclamation of irritation/surprise)   
> Festis bei umo canavarum = you'll be the death of me  
> tine-ti vestra = stay your tongue/ shut up  
> tua na se quae loquuntur tibi = you don't know what you're talking about


End file.
